


Rekindled

by doolabug



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doolabug/pseuds/doolabug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POTC2 has just started filming...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rekindled

Jack sat in the swivel chair in front of the large, lighted make-up mirror and thought, for the one hundred and forty-seventh time, _God, I hate this wig._ Sporting the abomination was worth it, though, to be involved in the sequel. Strike that. Sequels! Oh yes, so very, very worth it. He closed his eyes for a moment. The first day on-set had been long already, even though it was only mid-morning, and they still hadn’t called for him. He wondered if the next few months would grow to be as, hmmm, exciting as the last filming.

“Good morning, Commodore.”

Jack started and looked up into the reflection of ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ grinning over his shoulder.

“Johnny!” He smiled back, and then found himself being spun around.

Johnny grabbed the chair to stop it and leaned over to wrap his arms around Jack in a giant bear hug.

Jack saw the bone thing in Johnny’s wig fly toward him and turned his face into Johnny’s neck to avoid being poked in the eye. Christ, Johnny smelled as good as ever. Looking at him in that get-up one would think he smelled of fish guts and tar, when in actual fact he smelled of clean soap, a trace of the cosmetics on his face, and some expensive, spicy cologne. Jack didn’t want to let go, but Johnny released him and stood

“Great to see you, man,” Johnny looked at him thoughtfully. “You look good. I always did like the brocade. Although that wig is as god-awful as ever.”

Jack laughed, showing his dimples. “Yes, well, we all can’t be Jack Sparrow.”

“Captain Jack Sparrow.” Johnny’s kohl-darkened eyes glittered with the joke and Jack had to look away. So very worth it.

Johnny gazed at him for a moment. “I’m delighted you decided to join us. Really delighted.” He smiled again. “You had us all worried for a while there.”

“I wanted to do it all along, you know, I just had to make sure I didn’t have any conflicting projects.” Jack cocked an elegant eyebrow. “Although I probably shouldn’t play second fiddle to you and that Bloom fellow any longer,” he teased.

“Yes, you’re quite the man in demand these days, aren’t you.” Johnny moved closer. “Seems like everyone wants a piece of Jack Davenport.”

Jack swallowed. “Everyone?”

Johnny leaned over him again. “Everyone.”

Jack looked up into the fine-boned face and watched as Johnny tilted his head just so. Perhaps this shoot would be as exciting as last time after all.

Johnny’s lips brushed his and, just as he remembered, the mustache tickled his cheek. Jack caught Johnny’s face between his hands and held him still as he kissed him thoroughly. Too long, too long since that last kiss in St Vincent. Jack felt cunning hands on his thighs, caressing through the cloth of his costume breeches. “Door?” he gasped.

“Locked.” Johnny plucked the stiff wig from Jack’s head and flung it into a corner.

Jack looked at it, crumpled on the floor. “Makeup’s going to be bloody pissed, you know.”

Johnny shrugged and straddled him on the chair. “I don’t much care.”

“That’s unwarranted and flagitious prop abuse.” Jack curled his hands around Johnny’s slim hips.

Johnny’s hands roamed over his chest under the brocaded coat. “Flagi… what?” 

He pulled Johnny close. “Nothing, just something I read online,” he said, feeling the heat of the lean body as he nuzzled under synthetic dredlocks and beads to nip at Johnny’s neck. Johnny moaned softly and let his head fall back. Jack pulled the collar of the pirate shirt apart as his mouth skimmed over the sleek chest, licking and kissing.

Johnny ground his hips down and felt an answering hardness under him. Smirking evilly, he shifted his legs and slid off the chair, forcing Jack’s knees apart with his thighs. He quickly got into the rather complicated placket of Jack’s breeches – a well-learned trick he hadn’t forgotten despite the recent lack of practice. Johnny bent his head to Jack’s straining prick and heard the low gasp as he mouthed the length.

Jack watched the dark head bob in his lap, feeling heat and suction and slick wetness. Clever fingers massaged his balls. There was a momentary loss of sensation as Johnny raised his head slightly to fling his “hair” out of the way. He caught Jack’s eye and winked. “Terribly impractical, if you ask me.”

“But terribly hot,” Jack gasped out as the sexiest pirate in the Caribbean resumed sucking him off. Jack couldn’t last. It’d been too bloody long and it felt too bloody good. He thought of Johnny’s cheeks hollowing under the sharp cheekbones and wished he could see. The chin braids tickled his balls with each downstroke, making him shiver and twitch. Then a thumb and forefinger circled the base of his cock and squeezed hard. It was too much. Jack flung his head back, moaned low in his throat, and came. He felt suction and movement as Johnny swallowed.

Johnny stood up licking his lips and began to tuck Jack back into the breeches. He left the actual refastening to Jack, as he’d never bothered to learn that trick. He gazed at his friend, face flushed and head thrown back, dark hair gleaming, chest heaving under the blue coat and looking fucking handsome. Johnny felt his lips curl into a grin; this was going to be an enjoyable few months.

Jack picked his head up and regarded the “pirate” smirking at him as he caught his breath. “Don’t look so smug, Depp, you’ll get yours.”

“Oh?” Johnny rubbed his still-stiff cock against Jack’s long thigh. “Think you can manage?”

Jack reached for him, feeling the hard length through loose costume trousers. He cupped his other hand around a taut buttock and pulled Johnny closer.

“MR DEPP AND MR DAVENPORT, PLEASE REPORT TO THE SET. MR DEPP AND MR DAVENPORT, TO THE SET PLEASE.”

The loudspeaker boomed through the room and Jack and Johnny started apart. “Dammit,” Johnny winced as he tried to mentally force his disappointed cock to subside. Jack fumbled with the ties of his breeches, then retrieved his abused wig. Johnny moved toward the door but Jack caught him with a hand on his shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter.

“Think we can do this for eight months?” Jack held the door for Johnny and together they walked down the corridor toward the set.

“We’ll make do, Jack,” Johnny’s voice was soft, “We did last time.”

Jack clapped the wig on his head, knowing he’d momentarily be scolded for its condition. They heard the bustle of extras and the crew ahead. Johnny turned toward Jack and looked up at him, chuckling quietly. “How much d’you think will show through? On film, I mean?”

Jack regarded him for a moment and gave his one-sided smile. “Enough to notice. And they will. They live for the subtext, you know.” He walked toward the frowning makeup technician (who already was brandishing a comb, he noticed), leaving Johnny gaping behind him.

“ ‘They.’ Who is ‘they’? What do you mean?”

PLACES EVERYONE!! QUIET ON SET!!


End file.
